


Ache

by sirius123



Series: Final Fantasy XIV Writing Challenge 2020 [14]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Elezen/Lalafell relationship, F/M, Nothing TOO spicy, Tumblr: FFXIVwrite2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:08:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26496892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sirius123/pseuds/sirius123
Summary: Words couldn't describe how much Raise loved Iiro. He'd have to let his actions speak for him.Prompt #15 for FFXIV Write 2020!
Relationships: Original Male Character/ Original Female Character
Series: Final Fantasy XIV Writing Challenge 2020 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1907170





	Ache

Love was an exquisite sort of agony, Raise decided as he watched Iiro from across the room. She was quietly reading a book, her eyes half-lidded in concentration as she turned a page. She tucked a piece of dark hair behind her ear. He was only half paying attention to his lance’s maintenance. He’d probably have to do it again later, but that didn’t matter. She was simply beautiful in the orange glow of the evening, and his heart ached for her.

She didn’t notice him staring at her, and that was fine. He was okay just watching her, taking in the masterpiece created by the Twelve. Black is the color of my true love’s hair, he thought to himself. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. He always did. To be honest, he never wanted to let her out of his sight. No one else should be able to behold the beauty that was his Iiro besides him. It made him insanely jealous when another person’s gaze would linger on her just a bit too long.

Of course, he’d never let her know that. It was a bit embarrassing, and he feared she’d think it was strange. Maybe it was? Raise had thought he had known love before Iiro, but whatever he felt towards anyone before her paled in comparison compared to this rush of emotion that overtook him every time he was simply in her presence. Gods, how he loved her. The way she moved, the look in her eyes when she smiled, the shine of tears when her lip trembled in sorrow. He loved everything about her, every imperfection, every little edge of her.

“So beautiful is she that the birds alight and the fishes drown,” he muttered, “the flowers blush and Menphina hides her face in shame at the sight of her.” He often felt like waxing poetry every time he saw her. He couldn’t help himself, though his paltry words did nothing to describe her. She looked up from her book.

“Huh? Did you say something, Raisin?” She asked, and he smiled, shaking his head and looking back at his lance.

“No, nothing important. Just talking to myself,” he said. She eyed him for a moment before shrugging and turning back to her book. His gaze fell on her once more. Today, it was her hair and her eyes that simply took his breath away. The way her lips pursed when she was in thought, and the little furrow that creased her eyes when she concentrated. The Twelve took extra time on her, he was certain. It was unfair that such a perfect creature should exist, but here she was, right before him.

He never wanted to let her go. He wanted everyone to know that he, Raise Krieger, the idiot Dragoon, and less important Krieger sibling, had found the perfect woman. He wanted everyone to see her in his arms, and turn green with envy when she looked at him, and only him. He pushed down the rush of emotions and stood, putting his lance aside and walking up to Iiro. She looked up at him, blinking as he knelt down. He took a small foot in his hand and kissed her ankle. She flushed.

“W-Whoa! Raise! C-come on, that’s dirty!” She squealed, and he shook his head.

“Nothing is dirty about you, my love,” he muttered against her skin. “I’m simply worshipping you like the goddess you are.” Her blush deepened and she nearly dropped her book, trying to cover her face in her hands.

“Y-you’re such a sap,” she stuttered, her voice muffled, and he chuckled, his lips trailing up to her knee. 

“It’s not sappy if it’s the truth,” he said, his voice low. She peeked out at him from between her fingers, looking over him for a moment before reaching out and taking his face in her hands. She leaned in and pressed a kiss against his forehead. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling, and she pulled away.

“I love you, Raisin,” she said, lips curled in a pretty smile. He smiled up at her. I love you wasn’t enough. I adore you. I worship you. He wanted to say it all but merely settled for leaning in and kissing her softly.

Words would never be enough. He would simply have to let his actions speak for him. Ah, love was such an exquisite agony...


End file.
